Forging the Nest
by Psi Fi
Summary: Prequel/Sequel to Protecting the Nest. Clint and Loki reminisce about Clint's childhood. Loki answers some questions. Note: I refer to Loki as Loki, even when the other characters only know him as Edith Barton.


"So, tell me about you and Dad."

"What do you mean? You know how we met."

"Oh, come on. Student Edith met butcher Harold in a bar? I want the _real_ story."

"Oh, all right..."

*******

Loki set his pile of books down on the table, sliding into the booth he had chosen. Some copies of Midgardian grimoires were mixed with books from the local university library. One or two of the books were actual books of power, something Loki hadn't been expecting, really. Magic was very real, even on Midgard, but the Humans were neglecting the art of sorcery in favor of what they called science. Loki's lips twisted in disdain at the very thought. Separating magic and science was like permanently separating instrumentals from vocal music. Oh, they could thrive separately, but how much richer were they, when combined?

"Hey. What's your sign, baby girl?"

Loki looked up wearily to see a young human, with long, braided hair, standing over him, leaning against his table. The human was wearing denim pants that flared out at the bottom of the legs in the most impractical design imaginable. His shirt was open to the navel, revealing a soft chest and a few too many gold chains, especially when Loki could tell the gold wasn't genuine. Not for the first time, Loki regretted disguising himself as a beautiful woman, on this excursion.

"For something that unoriginal? Do not disturb," he told the man flatly.

"Whoa, no need to bring out the claws, mama cat," the man said, backing away. Loki ignored him, pleased that he had, at least, backed off peacefully.

"Why are you reading that stuff, if you don't dig astrology?" a different voice asked.

Loki turned to the next table and gave a wry smile.

"I've nothing against astrology. I just think it makes a poor pick-up line, especially when everyone is doing it."

The man gave a wide smile, his blue eyes glittering.

"Good point. So, why all the magic books? I can't picture the stuffed shirts at the university assigning all of that."

"I'm self-taught, mostly," Loki boasted, grinning back. "You might say I'm a collector."

"You try collecting the library books and they'll have the cops on you."

Loki studied the man. He was handsome, in a common, rugged way, with blond hair cut above his ears and piercing blue eyes. He wore the same ridiculous flared pants as the first man, but his shirt was buttoned up, which was a shame. Loki could tell the man had a body worth displaying.

"What's your name?"

"Harold Barton. You?"

"Edith Locke. Do you go to university?"

"Nah. I'm a butcher. I run my own shop," Harold explained, a bit defensively, making Loki smile.

"Nothing wrong with that," Loki assured him, making Harold grin.

"Wanna dance?" Harold asked, standing and holding out his hand.

Loki studied him for a moment, his lips curved in amusement. Finally, he laughed, standing and taking Harold's hand. Harold led Edith out onto the dance floor, leading her firmly, but lightly. Loki, fortunately, had been taught to dance from an early age, as part of his court training on Asgard. He picked up the steps easily, watching the people around them.

"So, why the spell books, really?" Harold asked, curious.

"Do you believe in magic?" Loki asked.

"Uh, not really, no," Harold chuckled. "I mean, come on. We've had men on the moon! I think science has proven itself, don't you?"

"I don't see what science has to do with it," Loki argued. "They can both exist. I mean, people believed in magic for thousands of years. Now, suddenly, it's considered childish or make believe. What if it isn't though? I want to know what the old books have to say about it."

"Thank the Victorians, for that," Harold said, shrugging. "The Age of Reason and all."

"Reason my ass!" Loki said, outraged. "There's nothing reasonable about summarily rejecting thousands of years worth of wisdom and experience."

Harold laughed, spinning Loki around.

"Don't blame me. I'm just the messenger."

Loki gave him a hard look, before sighing.

"You're lucky I think you're cute," he warned, thinking the threat probably sounded ridiculous coming from the lush, female form he wore.

"How lucky?" Harold teased, pressing a bit closer.

Loki smirked.

"We'll see," he taunted, already knowing he would allow the mortal to take him home. Why not? He had come to Earth to study, but he was following no agenda, save his own, and a night of pleasure would leave him better able to focus on his texts later.

*******

"A one night stand? Figures."

"Don't be a prude, fledgling."

"But, you got married?"

"Well, we liked each other and it seemed prudent."

*******

Loki stood outside Harold's butcher shop, running his hands over his stomach, feeling a rare nervousness. He was a prince of Asgard, by the Norns! He shouldn't feel so off-balance. Harold opened the door to his apartment and his eyes widened.

"Edith! Hi, um, come on in," Harold invited.

"Hello, Harold, thank you," Loki accepted, stepping inside.

Loki's affair with Harold had lasted a couple of weeks and been mutually satisfying, but they had drifted apart, neither looking for anything permanent. Well, things might just have changed, Loki reflected, sighing. Harold led him into the living room, settling them down in chairs.

"So, what's up? I mean, it's good to see you, but I wasn't expecting it."

"No, well, it came as a surprise to me, as well. Look, there's no easy way to do this. I'm pregnant, Harold, and the child is yours."

Harold stared at her, eyes wide and a bit panicked.

"You...uh. So, what are..."

"I'm keeping the child, of course, but I feel you have the right to know, as the father. I need to know, if you want to be part of this child's life. If not, I'll be leaving very shortly and not coming back. I'll give you time to decide, of course, but, if you say no...well, the odds are great that we won't meet again."

"Won't...where are you planning to go?" Harold demanded.

"Far away and that's all you need to know," Loki said, firmly.

Harold stood, turning to the window, taking deep breaths, trying to settle his mind. Pregnant. He'd gotten a woman pregnant...and she didn't seem terribly concerned about it. He whirled on her, eyes troubled.

"Do you have a job or even prospects?"

"I have all the resources I need," Loki assured him.

"So, you don't want..."

"Want what?" Loki asked, puzzled.

"Well, really...I should marry you," Harold stated firmly, making Loki start.

Loki couldn't help himself, bursting out laughing. The man looked so cute, trying to project an air of male authority and responsibility. Harold frowned.

"What's funny?" he asked, wondering if Edith was playing with him.

"You just look so adorable. Well, so you do want the child?"

"I...yeah, I do. I mean, it doesn't seem very real, but...yeah. I'm not gonna reject my kid," Harold told him, hurt.

Loki raised his hands in a gesture of peace, his own throat tightening. This was far different from his experience with Sleipnir. He hadn't come here, expecting to become betrothed, but...well. A few decades of study on Earth would be good for his sorcery and give him plenty of time to see his child grown and established.

"Very well, then. I accept your proposal."

*******

"...well?"

"Well what? He proposed and I accepted. We raised you together, until his accident."

"Um. What about telling him that you're, y'know, _male?_ Not to mention an alien..."

"Oh, he didn't find out about that until much later. You were around one year of age, I think."

"You married him, without telling him. So, what happened?"

"Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Leave out the icky parental sex details, but yes. How did my dad find out he married a man from Mars?"

"Asgard is not on Mars, Clint."

"It's a pop culture tradition, Ma."

*******

Loki sat in the middle of the living room, surrounded by books and other articles of spell craft. Clint, his little fledgling, was sound asleep in his cot and Loki estimated he had about two hours, before Harold got home. That was important, because Loki was in his male form, a form Harold had never seen. Loki was practicing a spell that had two different weaves, one for males and one for females. He had mastered the female version, but still needed practice with the male.

Concentrating his magic, Loki used male elemental magic to create a small breeze, watching in amusement as the drapes moved and papers fluttered across the floor. There was no fan or central air in the room, so there was no doubt that magic was at work and Loki was quite happy about it.

"What the...who the hell are you?" Harold's voice interrupted, his tone aggressive, with an undercurrent of fear.

Loki turned, eyes wide, the wind dying down.

"Harold..."

"Who are you?" Harold repeated, confused. "I don't know you."

Sighing, Loki didn't bother to explain, but transformed into his female form, the form of Edith Barton. He smiled ruefully at his husband, shrugging lightly. Harold made a soft, choking noise, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Edith, honey? I...I don't get it."

"Come into the dining room. I don't want us waking Clint up and it's a long story."

Harold followed Edith (was it Edith?) into the dining room, sitting heavily in his chair.

"How did you do that?" Harold asked.

"That was my true form, the one I have without magic. I'm a shape-shifter, though, and can become female at will. Harold, there's much about me that you don't know and I'm going to tell you everything now."

"You...okay. I'm listening."

"Good. First, my name is not Edith. As I said, I am not female, nor am I a Human," Loki began, then paused, waiting for Harold to absorb the information.

"You...hell. What are you then?"

"I'm an Aesir. My name is Loki."

"Like the guy from Norse mythology?"

"Exactly like, though the stories are exaggerations, where they aren't outright lies."

"You're...that's impossible."

"Is it. Well, by your culture's rules, so is changing gender at will," Loki responded, wryly.

To prove his point, Loki removed his shirt, revealing his breasts. He let Harold take a good look, then transformed into his male form, becoming lithe and angular, with the toned muscles of an active man. He grinned at Harold who stared, open mouthed.

*******

"Is this why I didn't grow up with any siblings?"

"Certainly not. It was a minor hiccup, quickly smoothed over."

*******

"I've been having sex with a male for the past two years?"

"Does that bother you?" Loki asked, a bit puzzled by Human ideas on sex and gender.

"Not as much as the fact that you've been lying to me in a big way."

"To me, it's a minor thing. Edith or Loki, male or female, I am me and we have Clint. This does not change our reasons for marrying."

"Well, no, but still..."

"Alien or not, I married you and intend to remain. I have no hostile intent."

"I get that, but...damn. You're a male alien and I didn't even know!"

"So, my being male does bother you."

"Well...not bother so much, but it is a shock," Harold admitted.

Loki leaned over and kissed Harold firmly. Harold sat stiffly, not responding, for a few moments, but then began slowly kissing back. Loki tasted exactly like Edith and, if Harold closed his eyes, Loki felt like Edith, too. Loki raised a hand to cup Harold's cheek, becoming aroused. He'd wanted Harold in this form, but hadn't wanted to risk it. Clint had a stable and loving home, which was more important than Loki's sexual appetites. Harold pulled away, his expression confused.

"I...I've never done anything with a guy, before."

"Well, there's always a first time, darling."

*******

"Yeah, you can stop there."

"So squeamish. Anyway, he became accustomed to both my male form and my magic, after that."

"Huh. What about his accident?"

"It was simply that, an accident. Another driver lost control and rammed into him. Your father died of blood loss and I found out too late to help him, even with magic."

"You would have, though."

"Our relationship was not conventional, but it was caring."

"Yeah, I get that. Thanks, Ma."

"You're very welcome, fledgling."

*******

"Sorry, Ma. I'm not saying you never tell the truth. I'm just saying you're lying about this. Even at six, I think I would remember visiting another _planet_."

"I couldn't let you know we had left Earth or you would have told people. We traveled the Bifrost, while you were sleeping, and I told you people were dressed for a costume ball."

"I met Thor, then?"

"Oh, yes."

*******

Loki walked into the assembly hall, his child nestled in his arms. He was still in his female form and would probably remain so for the duration of the visit to Asgard. The last thing he needed was for his true form to be revealed to Clint. That would probably need to be done, sometime in the distant future, hopefully when the boy was grown and had learned discretion. For now, though, Loki had to balance keeping the truth secret and presenting his son to Asgard, as one of her princes.

Reaching the edge of the dais that contained his parents' thrones, Loki knelt, knowing everyone here would recognize his female form, though there were a few looks of disapproval. Odin and Frigga, however, were merely welcoming, nodding down at him. Odin made the gesture that allowed Loki to stand.

"Loki, prince of Asgard. You have come home early and are welcome, but you are not alone," Odin observed.

"I am not, All-Father," Loki agreed. "The child is Clint Barton Lokison. I wish to have him formally presented to the court as one of my heirs and a prince of your line."

Low murmurs filled the court. Like any prince, Loki had numerous friends and enemies in the court. The murmurs were varied, some sympathetic, some scornful, some happy, and some angry. A high noble stepped forward, his expression bland, but his eyes contemptuous.

"No doubt you are fond of the child, Loki, and it does him honor to have you as a parent," the Aesir stated, his tone so smooth it could be nothing but sarcastic. "Who, however, is his other parent? What lineage and race is combined with yours in this infant?"

"The boy's father is of Midgard," Loki admitted, calmly. "That is where I went to study, with the All-father's permission, Raghnall."

"Indeed," Odin interrupted, walking down the dais to stand with his youngest son. "My lineage is not so easily diluted. The boy seems tired, though. We will set the presentation ceremony for noon tomorrow. In the meantime, the boy can rest and we will feast together, later this evening."

Odin struck the floor with Gungnir, ending the gathering. The court broke up, leaving the royal family to a less formal meeting. Frigga and Odin both hugged Loki. Frigga gently brushed a few strands of hair from Clint's eyes.

"He's a lovely child, Loki."

"Thank you, Mother. He is precious to me."

"Does he know his heritage?"

"No, I ask you not to reveal that this is not Earth. I'm sure he'll hear some things, but I can weave small things into dreams. Until he is older, I prefer him to believe himself human."

"The ceremony tomorrow?"

"He's young. It will seem strange to him, but no more than the eccentricities of the wealthy."

"That's my little brother. Never tell the truth, when you can tell a clever lie," Thor teased, stepping forward.

Loki rolled his eyes, grinning.

"Hello, Thor. Have you bedded all of the maids yet or do some still cling to good taste?"

"There are a paltry few who still pine for you, I admit," Thor countered, laughing. "Strange girls, but I would be ungenerous not to leave them for you, in any case. Yet, it seems you do not lack for company."

"I don't," Loki acknowledged, smirking. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put Clint to bed and rest a bit before the feast."

"Do you not wish to see Sif and the others?" Thor demanded, surprised.

"I'll see them at the feast. I have to care for my child, Thor."

Thor started to argue, his expression vehement, but Frigga placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling softly at Loki.

"Naturally. We'll see you, when the food is ready."

"I look forward to it. It's been too long, since I had a proper meal."

A proper meal it was too. The feast was a large one, even by Aesir standards. Two cows, two pigs, dozens of turkeys, and various other meats, fowl, and fish were served with various vegetables, salads, fruits, breads, and cheeses. Mead flowed freely. Clint sat next to his mother, staring in awe at the amount of food his mother's family ate!

"Are these people really our family, Mama?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes, fledgling," Loki assured him gently. "They're all eager to meet you."

"As long as they don't eat me. Who is everyone, again?"

"The man at the head of the table is Odin, my father and your grandfather. Next to him is my mother, your grandmama Frigga."

"And I am Thor, your uncle," the man boomed, pushing his way between people to sit next to Clint who stared up at him, not afraid, but very astonished.

"Yes, that he is," Loki admitted, ruefully.

"Have you given the boy his first taste of mead, Loki?"

"Of course not..." Loki started, but Thor didn't hesitate, pushing his goblet in front of the boy.

"Go on, young Clint! You will never have anything finer!"

Clint, with natural curiosity and a sense that his mother would not approve, leaned forward and took a gulp of the mead. His eyes widened and he grinned at the sweet flavor. He was going to take another sip, but a burning sensation flared up in his stomach and chest, just as his mama snatched the goblet away.

"Thor, do you never think?!" Loki demanded, handing Clint a glass full of goat's milk. "Drink that."

Clint obeyed and the rich milk seemed to help, cutting through the burning. In it's place, a feeling of happiness and excitement swelled. Clint felt himself relax and stood on his chair to look around him, bolder now. Loki looked at the boy and sighed.

"Mama, everyone is dressed funny. Why aren't we wearing costumes?" Clint asked.

"We'll wear costumes tomorrow," Loki promised. "Now, sit and eat your supper."

"Okay," Clint agreed. "How come they didn't use barbecue sauce?"

"Why should they? The meat is flavorful without it."

"Why?"

"Because of the woods and herbs it's cooked over," Loki explained.

"Ohhhh. Who's the funny man with the huge beard?"

"That's Volstagg and don't be rude."

"Is he my uncle, too?"

"No, he's a friend, not a relative."

"He's a close enough friend to be a relative, though," Thor argued. "I'm sure he'd be glad to be an honorary uncle, if you like, young one."

Loki smiled, shrugging.

"Perhaps. You can ask him later."

"Cool beans!" Clint exclaimed, stuffing a piece of pork into his mouth, making Thor laugh proudly.

"Clint, take smaller bites and chew your food," Loki scolded.

"Quit being such a mother hen," Thor scoffed.

"This may have escaped your notice, Thor, but I _am_ the boy's mother," Loki responded, dryly.

"The boy is six, he'll be a man before you know it," Thor declared.

"Manhood starts at eighteen, Thor, he's only a third of the way there."

"Well, he can at least start practicing for it," Fandral interrupted, smiling gently at Clint. "Hello, Clint, I'm another friend of your uncle and mother. I'm Fandral and I have a gift for you."

Loki looked up warily, wondering what was going on. The Warriors Three would not be cruel to a child, particularly one related to the All-father, but they weren't the wisest beings.

"That's kind of you. What is it?"

Fandral handed Clint a bow and arrow, suitable for a boy his size, grinning widely. Loki relaxed. A bow and arrow was something he could teach and control. Clint took the weapon, studying it with interest.

"A bow and arrow? I...I don't know how to use it," Clint admitted, a bit bashfully.

Fandral and Thor both laughed and Thor mussed his nephew's hair.

"That is what your elders are for, boy! We will teach you this great art!"

"Do you mind, if I give the boy a few lessons, Loki? We still have enough light," Fandral pointed out.

"No, I don't mind," Loki agreed, shrugging. "Clint, you listen to what they tell you, all right? Be good and obey their instructions."

"I will, Mama!" Clint promised, excited.

"Have fun, fledgling," Loki encouraged, smiling, as the boy ran off.

"Are things well for you, on Midgard?" Frigga asked, concerned. "We weren't sure you would ever bring the boy here."

"Things are well, Mother, but his exposure, for now, at least, must be limited. He would talk and it would make the Humans suspicious. I can't really raise him in both places securely and I would not deny his father the chance to raise him."

"Why not securely? I know the Humans are somewhat primitive..."

"They believe in neither magic nor beings from other worlds, Mother. If they discovered the truth of myself and Clint, it would cause a great commotion on their planet. I don't want Clint at the center of such a thing."

"You're right," Frigga agreed, smiling softly. "We just miss you and want to know him better."

"Twelve more years is not so much. Perhaps then I will bring him to Asgard."

"You won't," Frigga predicted, her smile sad, but accepting. "By then, he'll have a life, dreams, plans. You won't want to uproot him, set everything he knows on end."

"You're probably right, but we'll see. I might weary of pretending to be a human woman."

"You love pretending to be all sorts of things."

"Yes, Mother," Loki agreed, with wry amusement. "Even I, though, need some variety in my disguises."

"Ma, Ma, I did it! I hit the target!" Clint screamed, running and jumping into Loki's lap, his face flushed with excitement.

Loki grinned, giving him a hug and a kiss.

"Well done, my fledgling! I'm very proud of you."

"It was only my fourth try, too! Uncle Fandral says that's even better than he did, when he started," Clint continued, rapidly.

"If I remember correctly, yes," Loki agreed, chuckling. "How good of him to admit it."

Clint leaned against his mother's chest and gave a poorly stifled yawn. Loki rubbed Clint's back, smiling softly.

"It's late. I think it's bedtime."

"I don't wanna!" Clint protested, sitting up abruptly.

"You're never going to 'wanna,'" Loki predicted, amused. "Nevertheless, say good-night to your grandmother. We're going to our rooms."

Clint obeyed, dragging his heels. He kissed Frigga's cheek, allowing her to give him a warm hug.

*******

"That's it? We ate supper, Thor got me drunk, and I fired my first bow?"

"That was only a welcoming feast. The festivities were planned for the next day."

"I still don't remember any of this."

"Except for the ceremony, you spent the entire day outside, practicing the bow. You don't remember that? The day you spent with the guy who looked like Robin Hood?"

"Uh...you told me that was a dream."

"I lied, fledgling."

"Obviously. I don't have even vague memories of the ceremony."

"You were bored. Your mind didn't register it as important enough for conscious recall."

"In other words, I'm not missing anything?"

"I'll be glad to relate the event to you, if you like."

"I like."

*******

"Awww, Ma, why do I have to change clothes? I want to go back outside and practice my bow!"

"I thought you wanted to dress in a costume. I promised, if you'll remember."

Clint paused, then nodded reluctantly. It would be cool to have a costume of his own. He walked over to the bed, where his mother was laying out a complicated outfit. Smiling, Loki handed Clint a pair of brown leather pants with gold embroidery going up the sides of the legs from the ankle to the hip. The design was based on runes containing the names of Odin, Frigga, Loki, and Clint. Loki knelt down and helped his small son get the pants properly laced, then handed him a purple tunic that tied up the front. Over the tunic, Loki placed a brown leather vest that was held shut with buttons and loops of leather. Clint then sat on the bed and put on the leather boots his mother handed to him.

Standing, Clint raced over to the mirror on one wall and admired himself, grinning. Loki knelt down next to him and kissed his cheek.

"You look very smart. Everyone will be very impressed," Loki told him.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing, fledgling. Just stand in front of Odin and speak when spoken to. Mostly, it's like an introduction. He's going to tell everyone who you are and how we're related."

"Didn't we tell them that, yesterday?"

"Well, yes, but this is more formal, from Odin himself, for those who didn't hear and to make sure no one forgets. It's a reminder, like when you're learning something important and you're asked to repeat it."

"Oh. Will it take long?" Clint asked hopefully, making his mother laugh.

"No, it won't take very long, fledgling. I'm sure you'll get in more practice, before the sun goes down."

"It is time," Frigga said, appearing in the doorway.

Clint hesitated, looking between his mother and grandmother.

"M-may I bring my bow with me, please?" he asked softly.

"Of course, fledgling," Loki answered gently.

Loki and Frigga led Clint to the great assembly hall. Frigga joined Odin on the dais, taking her place on her throne. Loki proudly led Clint to the bottom of the stairs, giving Odin a courtly bow, then stepping to one side.

"Come here to me," Odin beckoned to Clint, his manner calm and commanding.

Clutching his bow, Clint walked up the stairs to his grandfather, standing in front of him. Odin smiled kindly at the boy, rising and going to stand next to him. Odin placed careful hands on the boy's shoulders, turning him to face the assembled crowd.

"My loyal friends. We are gathered here today, so I can introduce you to one of the younger members of my family. This is Clint Barton Lokison. He is the son of my child, of my line, and a claimant to all I have. I acknowledge this boy as my grandson, a full member of my family and a royal of this court," Odin announced, ignoring the few faces who looked severely displeased.

Odin cast a quick spell of protection, one that flared above the boy's head in the shape of Odin's own sigul. Most of the crowd, however, gave a great cheer. Odin led the boy to the bottom of the steps and the whole assembly began walking past them, offering the boy greetings and well wishes. Clint leaned against Odin with a sigh, fighting back a yawn of boredom. Odin chuckled, sneaking the young boy a piece of fruit, to occupy him. It took too long for Clint's liking, but eventually the crowd dispersed and his mother re-appeared at his side.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It was okay," Clint agreed. "I was going to ask you something about what Grandpa said."

"Oh? Like what?"

Clint considered, but he couldn't really remember what his grandpa had said. His thoughts during Odin's speech had mainly been on his bow and trying to pick Thor and Fandral out of the crowd. He shrugged, helplessly.

"I can't remember," he admitted, making his mother grin.

"Well, if it's important, it will come back to you."

It never did though. Fandral came up and asked to be allowed to take the boy out again. Eager to learn more, Clint forgot about the ceremony, which seemed a bit silly to him. With his mother's permission, the boy headed outside to practice. There was something immense about using the bow, feeling the tension of the string, then watching the straight line of the arrow fly to its target. Loki joined them this time and Clint was suitably impressed with his mother's skill, though he reluctantly conceded that Fandral was better.

*******

"How long were we there?"

"Three days, thereabouts. We stayed the next day and left the morning after that."

"I need to go back and meet everyone again. It really sucks knowing I've been to an alien world and not remembering it."

"Yes, we should visit, eventually."

"You gonna invite Bruce along?"

"Bruce Banner surrounded by the warriors of Asgard, who lack subtlety, and meeting his lover's parents? That could be a recipe for a very entertaining disaster. I'll have to ask him."

*******

Loki sat on the edge of his bed-a bed that was now his alone. Harold was gone. It seemed unbelievable to the Asgardian. In the past four hours, Loki had taken the call about Harold's accident, identified his body, and broken the news to Clint.

Loki squeezed his eyes closed, thinking of the boy, who had finally fallen asleep. It hadn't been easy, explaining the finality of death to the boy. Loki still wasn't certain Clint really understood what had happened, but the boy's tears were proof he knew his dad was never coming home. Clint was his experiencing his first, mortal loss.

Despite his age, it was Loki's first loss as well. Family and friends-everyone Loki had ever cherished still lived, thanks to Aesir strength and magic. Despite his experience in battle, this was Loki's first personal encounter with death. He found it bitter and galling. Oh, he'd known Harold would die, being a mere mortal. Still, even to Loki's view, this was a death that came too soon, unexpected. Harold's face had been unlined, his hair free of any gray, still a young man, even by mortal standards.

There was something loathsome about a world so easily touched by death.

"Loki."

Loki looked up at the bedroom mirror and saw Frigga staring back at him. He nodded somberly.

"Mother."

"Heimdall told us what happened," Frigga said, then paused. "Are you coming home?"

For a minute, Loki was sorely tempted. He could. He could gather up his son, a few precious things, and flee this tiny realm, never returning. His son would grow up as a prince of Asgard and forget his father's world...most likely forget Harold himself, too! Loki shuddered and shook his head.

"I can't, Mother. He's lost his father. Shall I take him from everything else he's ever known, too? Strip away Edith Barton and leave my son in the hands of someone who would seem a stranger to him?"

"No. No, Loki, of course not, but we miss you and the boy needs family, right now."

"He has his mother and his friends. He has Harold's mother, still. He won't be isolated."

So, they stayed and, eventually, mostly, healed.

*******

"Ma? You okay?"

"Yes, I was just thinking, fledgling."

"Didn't seem to be happy thoughts."

"Not especially, no. I was thinking of your father's passing."

"Oh. Yeah. Y'know, I barely remember him. I look at his picture sometimes and think I recall stuff, but not day to day."

"He loved you, dearly."

"You loved him."

"We shared a son and a life, for a brief time, briefer than I intended."

*******

"I've never been to a circus before."

"You're joking."

"No. We never went, when I was a child, and I was always too busy as an adult."

"Bruce...I love you, man, but you're a tragedy."

"Fledgling!"

"No offense meant, Ma. I just can't imagine not going to the circus."

"I took Clint to the circus, when he was nine. It might have been one of my bigger mistakes."

"Ma!"

*******

Clint held his mother's hand as they entered the big top of the circus, taking their seats near the front. Clint bounced up and down, partly from excitement and partly from the cotton candy, peanuts, caramel apple, and part of a funnel cake, that Loki had allowed him to eat. Even though the rings of the circus were empty, Clint ogled the equipment, the trapeze lines and other props, with amazement and curiosity. They had already visited the freak show and played some of the games.

"Is someone really going to walk across that tiny rope, Ma? For real?"

"Probably, yes," Loki agreed, sitting down next to Clint.

"So cool," Clint breathed, studying everything.

Loki grinned, enjoying the boy's enthusiasm. Few things affected the boy so strongly. Most of his attention and passion were reserved for archery. Loki didn't mind this, but he thought it healthy for someone so young to have more varied tastes and to try new things. Admittedly, the circus sounded like an interesting display of skill and ingenuity. Loki listened, satisfied, to Clint's excited gasp, as the lights dimmed and a single spotlight shone on the center ring.

For his age, Clint was remarkably silent throughout the show, watching in wide-eyed wonder as clowns, elephants, show-horses, and jugglers came and went, performing astounding feats. Loki enjoyed watching the boy, almost as much as he enjoyed watching the show. There was something engaging and catching in his enthusiasm, the rapt attention the boy was giving. Silent as Clint's approval was, Loki could feel it in his son's posture, a thrum of energy radiating outwards.

Loki was taken by surprise, when the energy turned into action and Clint's small body hurtled forward to the barricade that separated the audience from the stage. Loki hopped up and followed Clint, then gave a small laugh. A baby elephant had found his way to the audience and was standing with his feet on the barricade, begging for treats. Clint was feeding the animal some of his leftover peanuts, as a handler made his way over to them, trying not to disrupt the show. The baby elephant wrapped his trunk around Clint's wrist. Grinning, Clint petted the elephant.

"Hey, Bongo, come on you," the handler scolded gently, laughing.

"Bongo?" Clint asked. "Hey, Bongo. Did you like those peanuts?"

"Oh, he loves peanuts," the handler agreed, dryly. "He usually finds a friend or two who will indulge him."

"He's awesome!" Clint praised, eyes shining.

The handler grinned.

"Well, thank you. Wave good-bye, Bongo," he instructed.

Bongo obeyed, raising his trunk in farewell. His handler managed to get him in line with the other elephants, just as the ringmaster finished introducing the acrobats. Clint allowed Loki to guide him back to their seats, beaming. Loki ruffled Clint's hair, smiling gently.

"This is the best thing, Ma," Clint whispered fervently.

"Better than archery?" Loki teased.

"I bet an archer would do really well in a circus," Clint protested, making Loki laugh.

"You're right, fledgling. You'd fit right in."

*******

"See? It was all Ma's idea!"

"I didn't expect you to take me quite so literally."

"What? You really did join the circus?"

"..."

"Bruce, love, you are the only Avenger who _hasn't_ hacked into everyone else's files."

"Tony's a bad influence on the rest of you."

"Well, yes, that goes without saying."

"So, yeah, I joined the circus...mainly, because I hated high school."

*******

"Fledgling. Why do you want to do this?"

"Why not? I hate school, I have no interest in college..."

"Clint, even if I say yes, you will get at least a high school diploma!"

"I know, Ma, I know," Clint soothed, leaning over the table. "The circus will make sure I get my GED. Mr. Carson insists on that, too. Come on. I'm sixteen. I'm not a kid and this is a great opportunity!"

"I know school is hard for you. You're bored. I understand that. I need to know you're not doing this in order to run away. You've always loved the circus, but this isn't being in the audience. This will be hard work."

"The same hard work I've been doing all summer, yeah. I'll be mucking stalls and setting up tents. I'll also be learning an archery act and performing!"

"The circus and archery. Those are your favorite things, but this isn't a game. This affects the rest of your life."

"I know. Seriously, I do. I'm not running away. What's the worst that will happen? I find out the circus isn't all it's cracked up to be, come home, and finish high school the normal way. It's not like I'm sneaking off in the middle of the night. You'll be able to keep tabs on me; you can even come with, if you want!"

Loki studied his young son and a smile spread slowly across his lips. He shook his head. His son was almost grown and like his warrior ancestors was seeking a rite of passage, a tentative step into adulthood and independence. Clint was at about the same level of maturity he'd been, when Loki left on his first quest with Thor.

"That would defeat the purpose. All right, fledgling. I'll give my consent and you can do this. If I don't hear from you at least once a week, I'll assume the worst and come find you," he teased, though Clint knew his mother wasn't really joking.

Clint stood and walked around the table, hugging his mother tightly.

"Thanks, Ma. Don't worry. I'll keep in touch. This is going to work out great!"

*******

"So, how did you end up at SHIELD? The circus didn't work out?"

"Oh, it did mostly. I was there for three years, then some stuff happened and I came to SHIELD's attention. They recruited me and sent me to college."

"Did you like it better than highschool?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it was okay."

"Studying was not his priority."

"Hey, I graduated. Be proud of me."

"Of course, I am, fledgling."


End file.
